23. Twenty-Three

Twenty-Three

T he big band strikes the first few chords of "I've Got You Under My Skin" from beneath the shade of the pagoda on the gloriously sunny terrace. As I walk through the Orangery, I breathe a sigh of relief, pleased that another wedding has gone without a hitch, and the weather has held to allow the bride and groom to have their afternoon reception outdoors like they wanted.

I hover on the periphery of the terrace. The wedding is due to finish at six o'clock, which means I'll have just enough time to go home, get ready… and tell Art.

The chink of glasses makes me look to the right, where Olly is collecting empties from the tables in the bar area. I give him a smile and watch as he purposefully turns his back on me. It seems the news about me and Art has finally reached the hotel. It could only be a matter of time, I reassure myself.

I take a deep breath, determined not to let other people's views put a downer on the happiest I've felt in a long time. Nothing is going to pour cold water on this .

My black heels click across the grey slate floor as I cross into the Summer Room, still laid out from this lunchtime's ceremony. I scan behind the chairs as I walk down the aisle, checking to make sure none of the guests have left any belongings behind. Glasses and phones are the usual culprits.

"How's it going?"

I glance over my shoulder to see Art headed across the room towards me. He looks effortlessly sexy, with hands in the front pockets of his chinos and the sleeves of his black shirt rolled back to reveal his thick, golden forearms. I still can't believe he's mine. And that he's asked me to move in with him. Lucy is going to lose her mind when I tell her.

"Great. Everything's gone to plan."

"The band sound good."

"Yes, they are. I'm glad the bride and groom got their wish to have it outside."

He holds my hand in his and pulls me towards him with a smile.

I automatically look towards the door to check no one is around. "Is this a good idea? I think people know about us."

He pulls me to his chest and wraps his arms around me and I'm gone. "What people?"

I dare not tell him about Olly's reaction. "The other staff."

"If they already know, it doesn't matter whether I kiss you then," he murmurs against my mouth as he kisses me. He begins to sway us in time to the music floating through from the band outside and I laugh as he releases me and takes a step backwards, twirling me round, then pulling me back to his chest.

I link my arms around his neck and laugh. "You've got the moves."

"I do indeed." He seals my lips with a kiss and wraps his arms around my waist, swaying us from side to side again and I'm suddenly lost in the moment. Swept away by the dancing and the beat of the music, in my head we're dancing at our own wedding.

"I now pronounce you man and wife," a familiar female voice declares snapping me out of my daydream .

Lucy stands in the doorway, one hand on her hip and a massive grin on her face, delighted to have caught us.

I'm not entirely sure what she's referring to, then realise Art and I are standing at the end of the aisle where the bride and groom usually take their vows.

"You two need to get a room," she giggles.

He's gazing down at me with that look in his eye that tells me he agrees. "Maybe we do."

"I've only come to remind you that I've booked the Uber for tonight, so we should get to yours for eight o'clock," Lucy says, oblivious to the drama she's about to stir up.

I can feel his heavy gaze land on me. "What's happening tonight?"

This is what I was working up to tell him.

Lucy cocks her head in surprise at the fact I haven't told him. "I'm stealing the lovely Sophie away from you for the night. Tonight, she's all mine, Mr Black, and she's going to be looking hot," she giggles, and I want to tell her to shut up. "See you later, Soph." She turns and disappears off through the doors, leaving me to clear up the carnage she's left in her wake. I don't want to look at him, but I know I've got to.

"What's going on?"

I take a deep breath and look up at him. "We're going out for Lucy's hen-do tonight and I didn't tell you because I knew you'd get… twitchy."

His eyebrows arch. "Twitchy?"

"Yes, because we'll be drinking a lot and I knew you wouldn't like it."

He pushes his hands into his pockets and frowns as if he doesn't like it, but he doesn't want to admit that I'm right. "What was she talking about you looking hot for? You always look hot, what's so different about tonight?"

Me going out isn't the main issue. What I'm going to be wearing is.

"It's fancy dress."

"What's the theme? "

I know he's going to freak out, but I haven't got a choice, so he'll just have to deal with it. "It wasn't my idea, it's Lucy's. She is the bride after all. It's her hen-do."

"Sophie."

"Burlesque."

"No way."

I put my hands on my hips. Now he's being unreasonable. "You haven't even seen the costume."

"I know what burlesque is."

"Err, excuse me, Art?" George hovers in the doorway. "There's a call for you."

"I'll be right there," he barks, then pins me with a glare. "This conversation isn't over."

As soon as the bride and groom leave the hotel and go on their merry way to their honeymoon in the Seychelles, I race home. I haven't seen Art since this afternoon and I'm not hanging around because I know what argument we're going to have, and I haven't got the time or energy for it. Theo used to tell me what to wear and I'm not going through that again. Anyway, no one tells me what to wear. Full stop.

I hurry through a shower, dry and curl my hair into soft waves, pinning the top section up onto my head, and apply subtle make-up. I don't need anything too daring with the outfit I'll be wearing.

I slip on the strapless silky red costume and peer at myself in the bedroom mirror. It has a black lace overlay and very short black tulle skirt with a ruffle at the back. It looks like a corset but is actually a very short dress, which skims low across my cleavage and accentuates my waist. The black silk above the knee stockings and black stilettos finish off the look. It's far more daring than anything I've ever worn before, but Lucy has never done subtle. I'm seriously considering cracking open a bottle of wine before I step outside in public looking like an extra from the set of Moulin Rouge . Thank God Art can't see me.

I hear a thud at the front door and peer at my watch. It's only seven thirty. The taxi can't be early. Lucy's never been early for anything in her life .

I open the door to be greeted by a fuming Art, nearly bowling me over as he barges past me into the flat.

Great. Now for argument Round Two.

"Oh, do come in," I mutter sarcastically, closing the door behind him.

He stands in the hallway, arms folded as his dark eyes sweep up and down my body, taking in my outfit. His jaw twitches with tension. "There's no way you're going out dressed like that."

There's no way he's telling me what I can and can't wear.

If he thinks he's going to storm in and start telling me what to do, he's wrong.

I fold my arms, mirroring him. "I told you. It's fancy dress. Lucy chose the costume. I can't not dress up, I'm her Maid of Honour. It is her hen-do, it's not like I'm popping down the shops dressed like this."

He cocks an eyebrow signalling his disapproval at my vague attempt to lighten the mood. "I'm serious, Sophie. You're not going out wearing that. You look like a fucking stripper."

Anger flares in my gut. That does it. "You cannot tell me what to wear."

"I can when you've got more flesh on show than you have covered up," he snaps.

"I'm bored with having these conversations with you. This is your issue, not mine. Deal with it."

I push past him into the bedroom and hear him growl in exasperation, then his hand closes around my wrist and spins me back round with such a force I crash into his chest. I don't have the chance to protest because his lips attack mine, his hands cup my face, and I'm pushed backwards against the wall. I tell myself I'm angry with him, but my body is deceiving me and redirecting my anger into need. My hands snake into his hair and push his lips harder against mine, deepening the kiss, igniting my core. The length of his body is pressed against me and I'm trapped between him and the wall. He pushes his hips into mine, digging his erection into my hip bone and I gasp at the realisation he's pissed off but just as turned on as I am. His right hand slides down my body, curling in between my thighs.

"I haven't got time," I tell him, feebly as I carry on kissing him back .

He pushes his hand down the front of my black lace knickers which causes another moan to leave me. "Then stop me," he breathes against my lips. "You don't feel like you want me to stop."

I want him and all rational thoughts have left my brain.

"Don't stop," I groan as his fingers stroke my clitoris.

He removes his hand from my knickers and two large hands slide beneath my buttocks and lift me up the wall. I loop my arms around his shoulders and link my legs around his waist as he pulls my underwear to the side and pushes himself inside me, forcing me higher against the wall. My head rests back and my eyes shut as my mind spins into oblivion.

"You drive me fucking crazy," he rasps in my ear as white-hot tension mounts as he pounds into me. This isn't soft and gentle. This is hard, angry fucking.

"Tell me you'll come home to me tonight."

I flicker open my eyes to see two dark, shimmering pools staring back at me. "I'll always come home to you."

He presses his forehead to mine. "Promise me."

I run my fingers up into his hair, entangling them into his thick, soft locks. "I promise."

He kisses me deep and urgent as my core tightens, and he twitches inside me. The tension at my centre peaks and a warm wave washes over me as I tear my lips from his, and he follows me over the edge, groaning my name against my cheek as his thrusts slow, and he empties himself.

After a few seconds, he lifts his eyes to mine, and they're burning with intensity. "I can't come with you this evening, but I will be inside you."

I feel a throb between my legs at his possessive crudity and I'm alarmed I've responded in such a way.

I haven't got time for another shower. Part of me is still annoyed that he barrelled his way in and tried to tell me what to do.

"My taxi is coming to collect me in"-I glance at my watch-"Five minutes. "

He slides out of me and lowers me to the ground, helping me to rearrange my outfit and fastening his fly. He pulls something out of his back pocket and offers it to me. A key.

"A front door key, as promised. Come back to mine later." He kisses me lightly on the lips. "I haven't finished with you tonight."

My insides tingle at his statement, but I remind myself that I'm still cross with him. I take the key and place it on the bedside table.

"Don't be showing up tonight in any club," I warn, tugging my skirt down. "It's a man-free zone."

"It had better be." His lips twitch into a smile to show me he's joking. "Don't worry, I won't be. There's some business that's come up that I need to sort out." He tucks his shirt back in. I haven't got time to ask what he's got to sort, the taxi will be arriving pronto.

"Text me, when you're on your way home, otherwise I'll worry." He kisses me once on the lips. "Who am I trying to kid? I'm going to worry anyway."

My heart melts. "There's no need to. Lucy's sister Sarah will be with us. If there's any bother, I'll just let her loose on them."